Wild Rain

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Authors: Christine Feehan
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance
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performed the procedure once before and even then it had been unpleasant. He pushed back the hair from her forehead. She was looking at him with far too much trust. “I’m just going to do what has to be done. I’m apologizing ahead of time.”
    She could see the reluctance and distaste in his eyes. “It’s all right, Rio, I understand. I do. It had to happen sooner or later. I’m sorry he asked you to take care of it. I can see it bothers you.”
    “Take care of what?” he prompted. She was reassuring him, trying to make his job easier.
    “I know Elijah wants me dead. I know he sent you. You look so tired and sad. It was wrong of him to ask you.”
    Rio swore softly, hunkering down beside her. Her eyes were glazed, dreamy even, but they carried intelligence. She believed he was there to kill her, yet she looked at him as if she felt sorry for him. “Why does Elijah want you dead?”
    She blinked, her breath catching in her throat on a wave of pain. “Does it matter? Just get it over with.”
    “You’re just going to let me kill you?” For some reason her apathy made him furious. She was going to lie there and encourage him to take her life? He wanted to shake her.
    That same little smile tugged at her mouth. She seemed far away again, slowly turning her head away from him. “Even if you handed me a very large stick I wouldn’t be able to lift it. I’ll have to pass on being that take-forty-seven-kicks-in-the-ribs-and-keep-on-going heroine. I don’t think I can lift my head.”
    He leaned closer. “Rachael? You’re with me again.” She sounded like the woman who had bashed him in the head.
    “Was I gone?” She closed her eyes. “I wish I hadn’t come back. What’s wrong with me? Where did I go?”
    “You’ve been rambling. I have no choice, I have to work on your leg.”
    “Then get to it. You’re so tired you’re going to fall on your face if you don’t get it done.” She made an effort to lift her lashes and study his face beneath heavy lids. “I’m not going to blame you if it hurts.” Her eyes were clear and in that moment lucid. “I don’t want to lose my leg, so by all means, do whatever is necessary to save it.”
    Rio wasn’t going to talk about it any longer. Distaste for the ugly task glimmered in his eyes as he bent over her leg. The wound had to be lanced, thoroughly washed, cauterized and packed with more antibiotics. He had performed the surgery once out in the field when a friend had been shot and was bleeding profusely and the chopper couldn’t pick them up immediately. Small beads of sweat dotted his body, then ran into his eyes to blur his vision as he placed the blade of his knife in the flames.
    Opening the wound to allow the infection to run out set his stomach churning. She screamed when he poured the burning antiseptic, nearly coming up off the bed. He hesitated only a moment, leaning his weight across her thighs, and taking a deep breath laid the blade of the knife against her flesh. The odor was sickening. He didn’t hurry, not wanting to make any mistakes, careful to cleanse and repair, before splinting her leg to hold it immobile in order to give it a better chance to heal.
    He couldn’t look at her as he cleaned the bedding and packed blankets around her leg to hold her still. She hadn’t moved in a long time, her breathing shallow, her skin clammy. Definitely in shock, Rachael was trembling in reaction. Rio cursed softly. He eased down beside her, stretching out along the bed, drawing her close to him, unable to think of anything else to do.
    “Rio?” Rachael didn’t pull away from him, instead burrowed against him like a kitten for comfort. “Thank you for trying to save my leg. I know it was difficult for you.” Her voice was thin. He barely caught the words.
    Rio nuzzled the top of her head with his chin, blew at strands of hair caught in the stubble of several days growth. “Try to relax, I can’t give you any more painkiller for a while. Just

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